The Choices we Make
by Nightfury991
Summary: The choices we make are what make us, us; but our choices effect others in ways we can't imagine. And some choices are more difficult to make than others. Balto must find this out the hard way, when sled-dogs are being attacked and a mysterious dog turns up in town. And he has to deal with an infernal bird...


He ran; ran as fast as he could. Where he was going didn't matter to him right now; all he had to do was get as far away from the town as possible. His breaths coming out in harsh, sharp pants; visible from how cold it was in Alaska.

The snow crunching beneath his paws, as well as cover his back as the snowstorm floated down to the ground.

But no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't escape the presence that had been hanging over him since… _it_ had happened.

Suddenly, the ground beneath his paws just vanished; he yelped as he roughly tumbled down the steep slope he had ran into; hitting the ground with solid _thuds,_ before finally coming to a rest at the bottom.

He blinked slowly, his vision having gone blurry during the fall; a slow, trickling warmth was covering his hind legs as he lay there. His side heaved with deep breaths, with the occasional wince between the breaths; something wasn't right in his chest…

He tried to push his from paws underneath him, but the moment he applied pressure to his left front leg, white hot pain seared through him, causing his legs to give out from his own weight. It was clear to him, with a sickening feeling forming in the depths of his stomach, that he wasn't going anywhere.

 _Caw! Caw!_

His eyes widened at the bird call; he tried twisting his head to see the source, but the act of doing so was more pain than he could manage. But even if he couldn't see it, he knew…he had to get away.

But he had only managed to get himself onto his front before a sudden weight pressed down on a specific point on his lower back; a weak yelp of pain escaping his bloodied muzzle, hacking up a bit of blood from his throat.

The weight moved from the center of his body to the side, and a great force rolled him over; non-too gently either. He rolled through the snow, soaking more flakes in his blood; his legs laying uselessly on the pile he had been rolled in.

His eyes were struggling to stay open, and moments later, the weight had returned to his body. Though instead of his back, the weight had been placed squarely on his throat; cutting off his air supply.

Fighting for survival would have been the first thing he tried to do; but he had lost so much energy during his attempted escape, and so much blood from the severe fall, that he had no strength less to do so. As it became harder and harder to stay awake, he strained to turn his head; looking up at his soon-to-be murderer.

The black mass of fur stood over him, silently; the howling wind whipping around the scarred fur and body of the creature.

"A…Am…I the…l-last…*gasp*…one…?" he wheezed, the black paw pressed with more force mid-sentence; finding it harder to do anything now.

Silence was his answer initially, the only sound was the wind racing around the many trees that surrounded them; a large raven perched up on one branches over the two below.

" _ **No."**_

His raised his eyes weakly when he finally got a response; at the same time, he felt the creatures claws press down onto his neck; breaking through the skin, but no further. He tried to breathe as best he could; only to find it getting much harder to do so…

He tried to speak, but he was interrupted.

" _ **One remains."**_

The deep, animalistic growl spoke against the wind; as the dog beneath tried to breath, he pressed his paw upward, driving his claws into his throat. He spluttered and gagged, blood oozing from the wound.

The body shook in the snow, but was held firmly in place. Finally, the body grew still; all warmth leaving is body, being absorbed by the cold around him. Once he was still, the paws were removed from his body.

Looking down at the body with a growl, the creature turned around and walked away; all it took was a few steps before he vanished into the darkness.

The crow cawed again, before it took off from the branch, flying off into the storm-covered land.

A bit of snow fell from the branch at the sudden jolt, and landed on the still body that lay beneath; starting the act of freezing the body; and covering it up.


End file.
